Violence, Voices, and Blood
by Dmentia
Summary: The story is about this cerial killer at hogwarts with a big ax and a room for rent sign in there head so read it's good for you. oh and a slight DracoGinny ship for all you sentimentals out there. Rated pg-13 and pearing over the edge of R
1. Me, my ax, and I

Colin Creevey was walking very quickly back to the Gryffindor common room after a very long night of cataloging all of Harry's pictures in his "Special Place". It was very dark in the hallway, and Colin was petrified with the thought of running into Filch or his dread assistant, Mrs. Norris. He quickened his pace, stroking his camera, "It's alright my precious," he gently whispered to his magical camera. Colin was almost to the common room when he heard the terrified shriek of a girl. The painful sound sent shivers up his back. As scared as he was, Colin was still a Gryffindor, and without a second thought, he rushed toward the sound. What he saw when he turned the corner was worse than anything his imagination could have possibly ever produced. Before him lay a horribly disfigured body in a Slytherin uniform. He could tell it had been a girl, but that was only because of the tattered remains of a skirt. A few feet away from the body glittered a green and sliver prefects' badge. But that wasn't the worst of it. A figure in a black cloak was whistling a happy tune as they were mopping up the blood. Even though the cloak was black, Colin could still see the blood dripping from the tattered corners. Next to the murderer lay a bloody ax that had been casually laid against the wall. Before Colin thought about anything else, he picked up his trusty camera and took a quick shot. The hooded figure reacted instantly and before Colin could do a thing, they had grabbed the ax and cut off his arm. The pain was like an electrifying shock that rippled through his body, unlike anything Colin had ever experienced, but it was nothing compared to his enormous fear. The camera dropped to the floor as he fell to his knees right next to his severed limb. Petrified, Colin lay still as he looked into the hooded face of his killer. The thought of using his wand had never occurred to him. Another swing of the ax and Colin fell on his back. Now the pain was throbbing through him like a drum. He turned and looked up at the figure over him, he caught a glimpse of their face, "You! Why?" Those were his last words as the ax sliced of his head and everything went black.  
  
Colin's head rolled away from the body as the figure laid down her ax. She casually bent down, picked up the camera, and removed the film. She shoved it down into her tattered cloak's pocket and went back to mopping up the pureblood. Just as soon as she went back to mopping, the voice came back to her.  
  
Now was that as hard as you thought it was going to be? And look! You got us an extra.  
  
"It was only Creevey," the girl replied.  
  
Too bad. We'll need a lot more than this.  
  
"I know, but don't worry," the girl said, still a little in shock over what she had done, "I could probably do that again."  
  
Do you have any one in mind yet?  
  
"Not as of yet, but don't worry. There are lots of worthless purebloods in this place."  
  
**  
  
The dark Slytherin common room was alive with the voices of terrified students. Everyone in an uproar over what had happened.  
  
"It has to be the work of the Dark Lord," Blaise Zabini commented.  
  
"But why would he kill Pansy? She was just as pure as the rest of us," Millicent Bulstrode replied over her schoolwork. Not in the least bit concerned that her schoolmate had lain dead in a broom closet for several hours.  
  
"What do you think about this Draco?" Blaise asked. A group of students joined him in questioning. They were all sure that his father would have filled him in if this was some Dark Plan.  
  
Draco was sitting in a large leather chair next to the fire. He had been pondering this all day. Unlike most of his peers, the fact that Pansy was dead didn't faze him at all. In fact, if you asked him point blank, he might have smiled, chuckled even. Draco had never liked Pansy; she was just so damn annoying. Not to mention she had owned a face that a horse would have been ashamed of. The fact was; someone in this school had the gall to kill a pureblood. It put everything Draco had ever believed into a whole new light. For the first time in his entire life, he was in some type of peril. Frankly, Draco didn't much like it. He was used to being the one who caused the peril, or at least was in on those who were. All day, he had been reading and rereading the Prophet over and over, yet it let out nothing of importance. Figures, Draco thought, why do people even read this trash? He looked out over the paper to see his classmates, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle looking down at him, like he was the one person alive who would tell them everything would be all right. In all actuality that was probably true, Draco had always been the brains for those two and they in turn were his muscles. A good commodity when you're the sarcastic Slytherin Prince of Ice.  
  
"Uh. Draco?" Crabbe asked, waking Draco from his stupor. You have to tell them something Draco, anything will do. He knew what the Slytherins wanted, someone to tell them Pansy was a traitor, and that they wouldn't be harmed. Draco merrily said what he had said before, "I'll ask my father if he knows what's going on." Without a look at his fellow classmates, he turned back to the front page of the Daily Prophet.  
  
Murder at Hogwarts  
  
Yesterday, an awful tragedy occurred at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school was witness to the deaths of two students: Slytherin sixth-year, Pansy Parkinson and Gryffindor fifth-year, Colin Creevey. The students were found dead this morning shoved into a broom closet on the fourth floor. Young Creevey was found decapitated and Miss Parkinson was so terribly disfigured, that Madam Pomfrey, the school Head Nurse, didn't discover her identity until three hours after the discovery of the bodies by second-year Hufflepuff, Rose Zeller. Unfortunately, the identity of the murderer is still unknown. Lucky for investigators, there is one major clue; Miss Parkinson was found lacking almost entirely in blood, while Mister Creevey was covered completely in gore. The killer left no clues, as he magicked the area spotless before leaving. "It must have been the work of an expert, but rest assured, your children will be protected at all costs. We at the Ministry are sure to find him," was quoted today from Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, who even now has taken over as Headmaster of Hogwarts, due to another disappearance by Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards).  
  
The paper went on to list Fudge's "accomplishments", but no more was mentioned about the killer. Although Draco did note there was an exceptionally nasty picture of the two mangled bodies being removed from the closet. And a sappy bit of brown nosing by none other than Percy Weasley. **  
  
The death of Colin Creevey spread through the school like wild fire. However, Pansy's death wasn't mourned by many but the Slytherins.  
  
"So.who do you think did it?" Hermione said not looking up from her Transfiguration book. Harry wasn't paying attention, he was completely absorbed in the paper looking for any word on the Order. Although he was feeling guilty about Colin, the kid had always freaked him out a little. It was almost like the guy was stalking me, taking pictures. Harry dismissed the thought as he picked up an apple.  
  
"What was that?" Harry asked when he realized Hermoine had asked him something.  
  
"Huh? Oh, nothing."  
  
A few minutes later, Parvati and Lavender came and sat down at the table as quietly as possible, both looking at Harry like he would spontaneously explode and take everybody else with him.  
  
"What now?" Harry sighed looking at them.  
  
They both looked quiet pale, glancing down at their plates, not saying a word. A moment later, Ginny and Ron came staggering in, covered in mud.  
  
Harry gave them a forlorn glance, wishing he was the one just now coming in before he went back to the paper. When Fudge had been made Headmaster after Headmaster Dumbledore had disappeared again, he had brought back in many of Umbridge's Educational Decrees. So, Harry was no longer on the Quidditch team (again), and Ginny was filling in for him (again). He then noticed that Pansy and Lavender were still staring at him like he was going to take off his skin and turn out to be an alien brain sucker from the planet Saturn. Not to mention, while they were staring at him, they were nervously whispering to each other. Oh no.not again, he groaned as he remembered last year and Cerdic's death the year before that.  
  
"Alicia has a mean streak a mild wide," Ron said, sitting down and scooping everything in reach onto his plate.  
  
"So are the owners of House Elves; at least you volunteered," Hermione said, looking up from her book for the first time. She was watching Ron with a distasteful look as he sat scooping everything on his plate into his gaping maw. Ginny dodged the debris, rolling her eyes at Hermione as she helped herself to an orange.  
  
"Oh get off it Herm, this is getting ridiculous," Ron said through a bit of food.  
  
Hermione shut the book, slammed it down, took out her knitting kit, and started making some more elf, sized hats. She looked back up at Ron with a superior look then went back to her work.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry had been having a bitter stare down between Parvati and Lavender and had lost bitterly. "This is just my life," Harry said sarcastically as he grabbed his books and left. As soon as he was gone, Parvati and Lavender began to start whispering to each other again.  
  
"Can someone please pass the toast?" Ginny asked quietly. ***  
  
Okay, okay, it's a little to short for the first chapter, but I do have ideas on where this is headed. Again, I blame it all on a severe lack of chocolate and the fact that Slim Fast has the texture of chalk. Don't believe me, try it. Oh by the way, the killer is probably obvious, so I'll try not to give too many things away too quickly. Oh, and I love reviews and I would appreciate some help, so go ahead and see if you can figure out the murderer. If you guess right I'll find a way to let you know.  
  
Chocolate Muse note: I demand that you all bow down and worship me, because without me, you wouldn't be able to understand a damn thing that D had said. So, can I have a little applause? Pretty please? With sugar on top? I'll be your best friend, especially if you review her too ^points above head^ . Thank you, and good night! 


	2. Quidditc Damn that's a fun word

Authors Notes: Hey I finally got this updated can I get a shout from the audience wahoo, Any way thought I should get around to maybe making a second chapter so here it is…In this one we see shock and blood wrenching horror…but not really. More like a slight ship development but not much else. So thanks to all who reviewed and on with the show.

Disclaimer: If I really owned Harry Potter would my writing suck this much???

Father

I'm sure it has been brought to your attention that Miss Parkinson was found dead earlier this week. It would be most appreciated if you could give me any information you might have on the murderer. 

Your son,

Draco Malfoy

Draco read over the short letter before he put it into an envelope. It was short, flat, and pointed nothing toward anyone. Lucius was sure to chew him out for even sending it, but at this point Draco just wanted the other Slytherins to quit hounding him about it. Draco folded the envelope and shoved it in his desk. It's only a matter of time before he breaks out any way._ Being the spawn of Evil Incarnate does have it's benefits, _Draco said to himself as got up and looked around his private room. It wasn't exceptionally large, and it was shaped like a pointed hat, but it sufficed. There was a decent sized fire place in one wall, while on the other was his four poster bed and his large oak desk which Draco was personally very pleased with. From the beginning, Lucius had wanted Draco to have his own private floo connected to Malfoy Manor so Lucius could get into Hogwarts any time he wanted. He thought he was being so sneaky when he set it up, but Draco was pretty sure Dumbledore knew all about it, and if he didn't want Lucius in, Lucius wasn't getting in.

"Hey Malfoy! You still awake?" 

Draco turned around to see Blaise Zabini standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, I'm awake…kind of. What the do you want?" Draco drawled. He wasn't really being mean. Blaise had been one of the only actual friends he ever had. The boy was tall and lanky, with short chestnut brown hair that never needed brushing, but always seemed to be in place. To match the hair he had a pair of hazel-green eyes the glittered with untold mischief. 

"Nothing really. Actually I'm just here for a smoke," Blaise said as he casually strolled over to the bed and pulled pack of cigarettes out from under the mattress.

"Why are you always hiding your paraphernalia in my room?" Draco asked as he watched Blaise walk over to the small window and light one of the cigarettes. 

"Well, it's like this, Draco," Blaise said taking a puff, "No one would ever suspect it of you, while Snape has searched my dorm room about five times in the last month or so. That, and Crabbe and Goyle would find them eventually and think they were candy or something." Draco rolled his eyes and flopped onto his bed. There was no point arguing with Blaise. 

"Hey, shouldn't you be asleep by now anyway?" Blaise asked wafting the smoke out the window. 

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not," Draco snapped, his face buried in a pillow. 

"It's just that you have that game with that hot little red headed Gryffindor tomorrow." 

"_Who?" _Draco asked.

"You know, that little red headed number," Blaise said.

"Oh, great use of adjectives there Blaise," Draco drawled, rolling over on his side to see Blaise attempting to draw things in the air with the smoke from his cigarette. 

"You know, red hair, about oh, five-two, plays seeker for Gryffindor."

"Oh. Weasley's little sister, um... what's her name. Oh yeah, Cinny," Draco said.

"Cinny. Boy, I hope so," Blaise said with that oh-so-familiar glint in his eye.

"Geese Blaise, don't you have _any _moral fiber?" 

"Hey! She's what? Fifteen? As far as I'm concerned that's fair game." 

"Well, you go have your wet dreams and get the hell out of my room so I can sleep."

"Fine," Blaise said tossing the butt of his cigarette out the window. "Sweet dreams princess."

"Up yours Zabini," Draco retorted as the door closed. 

***

It was one o'clock in the morning exactly eleven hours to the first Quidditch match of the season, and Gryffindor's seeker was sitting downstairs in front the fire, debating the merits of pretending she was sick tomorrow.

"They wouldn't necessarily suspect anything. After all, they don't pay enough attention to me to notice if I was sick today or not," Virginia Weasley replied.

"Ginny? Is that you? Why are you still awake? Who are you talking to?" from the top of the boys' staircase came the voice of Ron. 

"Hmm? What? Oh, couldn't sleep. And I was just thinking out loud," she told him, wishing he would just leave so she could decide what she wanted to do tomorrow.

"Oh. Well, you should go to bed soon. After all, we can't have our seeker falling off her broom. What would it look like if we lost to Slytherin? Then we would loose all the respect Harry helped us win in never once loosing to them," Ron said. Virginia could tell that he was trying to encourage her, but the comment about Harry never loosing to Slytherin when her game tomorrow would probably be the first loss to Slytherin in three years just made her feel worse. 

"Thanks Ron you always know exactly what to say," Virginia said wishing for a nuclear holocaust. 

"That's 'cause I'm you big brother Gin, now it's late go to bed," Ron said completely ignoring his sister's sarcasm. Virginia heard Ron walk into his dorm room and shut the door.

Ginny slowly got up, she really ought to be going to bed anyway. 

***

The next day the sky had turned that ominous gray that promised rain. This didn't help Virginia's dark mood, neither did the discouraging banner "Go Weasleys," over the Slytherin bleachers help her confidence. Madam Hooch blew the whistle and both teams took their positions. Fudge was sitting in Dumbledore's seat with a happy look on his face, despite the fact that all the other teachers behind him looked like they were after blood. When Alicia and the Slytherin captain, Montague shook hands, Virginia was getting ready to hall ass under her bed. Madam Hooch seemed to notice this and gave her a reassuring nod.

On the other side of the pitch Draco was desperately trying not to laugh at the way Montague and the Gryffindor captain were shaking hands. First off, they might not be able to fly since not one bit of circulation was getting to either of their hands, and they weren't blinking. Before he made a complete arse of himself, Draco decided to look intimidating and glower at the opposing team. Draco scanned them all with his eyes and then he spotted what he_ really _wanted to look at. She was but a little mouse of a girl with the same unruly carrot colored hair that ran rampant in her family. She looked like she was going to bolt. As if she could feel someone staring at her, she lifted up her head and gave him a look that could have burned a whole through dragon's hide. _She doesn't even know me and she hates me, I must be some type of devil-god to them _Draco thought to himself. Thinking of all those red heads with crosses and Holy Water, Draco shuddered. _That's the last time I let Zabini drag me into one of those Muggle theater things, _Draco thought, remembering the movie Blaise had taken him to with the vampires. _What makes them think that crosses and Holy Water would do something anyway?_ Draco had to crash that train of thought as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and they all took off.

Virginia heard the whistle and kicked off high into the sky. She rose high above the game and caught her breath. Her heart was pounding and she was shaking. It wasn't that it was her first game, but this was the first against Slytherin. She looked around and saw a green speck on the other side of the field. _Come on_ _Virginia, you can't loose this to Malfoy,_ she thought to herself. Ignoring the pounding in her ears she began circling the field. She slowed down, her eyes looking for the tiniest bit of gold.

Meanwhile on the ground, Harry was sulking while, Hermione was cheering on Ron, who was trying desperately to keep the Slytherins from killing him, or his sister. 

"If he would quit watching his sister, he would probably do a better job of watching the Quaffle," Harry commented morosely. 

"He's just concerned," Hermione supposed, trying to keep Harry from running off. Ever since the beginning of summer, he had been exceptionally moody on account of, well, everything that had happened last year. In Hermione's opinion he was spending far too much time alone, it wasn't healthy.

"Another ten points to Slytherin. The score: Slytherin fifty: Gryffindor thirty." Luna commented quite lazily, as if she couldn't care a wit who won. "Oh, look, Malfoy seems to have found the Snitch."

Harry looked up and sure enough there was a green streak shooting down the field. _He is never going to let me live this down, _Harry thought bitterly. 

"Miss Weasley is diving through the game and is also after the Snitch."

Everyone stopped paying attention to the rest of the game as they saw the tiny red streak shoot through the game dodging all the players and balls as she went. 

"She's miraculously gaining on Malfoy."

All was silent as the two players went neck and neck after the Snitch . Suddenly, the Snitch dived down and both shot after it, but while Virginia pulled up as they came up to the ground, Malfoy caught the bottom of the broom and slammed into the ground, landing on his arm. 

"And Malfoy slams spectacularly into the turf. The Snitch is now… wait, what's that? Why, is that the Snitch Ginny's hold up? Yes, it is. Gryffindor wins 180 to fifty. Congratulations Gryffindor," and with that quiet unheard announcement, Luna regained her average composer, and, looking like she didn't know where she was, nor did she really care, she delicately jumped off the podium, and began skipping off towards the castle.

*** 

Draco slowly staggered into the Slytherin common room, caked in mud and a black eye forming and his arm still aching from where he fell. In other words, he wasn't at all in the mood for what awaited him. As he stepped inside the dark room, he was met with the gloomy and foreboding eyes of his house mates. 

_As if life didn't suck enough, _Draco thought as his eyes wondered through the crowd.

" Wonderful, Malfoy," Draco turned around to see--of all people-- Tracey Davis. After Parkinson's death she had assumed the spot of smartest girl in Slytherin. And as far as Draco knew, or cared, for that matter, she was. "Terrific, stupendous, how do you do it?" she sneered.

"Hard work and a damn good health plan if you must know," Draco said through gritted teeth, feeling much like someone had shoved an ice pick though his skull, and hadn't bothered to remove it yet.

"Lets see, five out of six incredible losses Malfoy, now that is just skill right there," Tracey went on, oblivious to the fact that Draco's normally ice cold features were melting away to reveal one pissed off sixteen-year-old. 

  
"Wow, astute observation, did you get Goyle to help you with that one?" Draco sneered, wondering if he could pull out the ice pick and stab her with it. 

"Just quit Malfoy, the entire house is sick of dealing with your aristocratic bull shit." said a voice from the door. Draco turned around to see his captain, Montague, leaning against a chair giving him the same look all the others were doing. "Lets face it, you just can't do this," Montague continued, a slight edge of guilt in his voice. "You're an excellent flyer, just not when it comes to quidditch. I'm holding a practice tomorrow and if any body is interested, please show up."

Draco didn't even hear the last part, his mind was reeling. _ THEY, get rid ME_, _they just can't do that. _All of his life Draco had been the Slytherin poster child, and this bit of news was more than an already damaged Draco could stand. 

Not even bothering to say a word he trudged out of the common room. _This can't be happening _he kept repeating to himself as he walked into his bedroom.

"Damn man, you look like shit," a voice said from the bed.

Draco turned around to see Blaise laying on the bed reading one of his trashy magazines. "Thanks mate, you always know just what to say." Draco said as he trudged into his bathroom. The Bathroom to say the least was worse than his room. It was small and cramped, but the alternative was sharing a shower with his other house mates. A knife seemed to enter Draco's stomach when he thought about the conversation he had just had in the common room.

"So, did they give you the boot?" Blaise asked not looking up from his magazine.

"You knew about that?" Draco yelled from the bathroom. 

"Sure, everyone did, Tracey has it in for you man," Blaise said. 

"That's just my life then," Draco said, picking up a towel.

"Mind if I bathe, " Draco said knowing the futility of getting Blaise to leave. 

"Sure, you stink on ice," Blaise said through his magazine.

__

What I wouldn't give for a private room, Draco thought as he took off his Quidditch robes. 

Authors notes: Well there it was…I promise I'll update sometime this century…looks around for lighting bolt. Any way big round of applause for my beta/co-writer chocolate muse. Read her stuff it's better than mine. Oh and I love review so review please and if you don't know what to review about give me your opinion on my version of Blaise Zambini

TO INFINITY AND BEYOND 

Ps. I don't own that either


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